The Roommate
by Tropical Medlies
Summary: When Fiona casually sat beside her in class one day and dropped the name of the person she was now sharing her living space with, Imogen had been understandably shocked. One-shot.


When Fiona had approached Imogen for the first time and told her that she was having trouble making ends meet, what with her assets frozen and her mother under house arrest, and that she needed a roommate, Imogen had immediately been on board. If it was a way to keep Fiona in Toronto, then obviously she was going to lend her support in any way possible - as long as Fiona didn't end up rooming with anyone gross or creepy. She had even helped her design the flyers and did a bit of scoping for potential roomies herself, but when Fiona casually sat beside her in class one day and dropped the name of the person she was now sharing her living space with, Imogen had been understandably shocked.

"Drew? You chose _Drew Torres_ as your roommate?" Her voice was louder than she intended, and Fiona had to glance around them before putting a hand on her arm to calm her.

"Im, shh. Yes, Drew Torres. He came over and told me that he thought we could make it work, and I think we can. As long as he pays his share of the rent and I don't catch him with Bianca, it will." She flashed Imogen a smile just as their teacher started speaking and settled back in her seat, leaving Imogen to her thoughts.

She didn't like it. It was Drew Torres. He had a reputation at school for being involved in a lot of gossip-worthy stuff, like whatever prompted the school shooting at prom last year, and the most recent being dumping Katie Matlin and that awful video that was shown at the pep rally, and now he was dating Bianca, so she wasn't sure what was even going on there. The point was, Imogen was pretty sure he wasn't the nicest guy around and she didn't know if she wanted someone like that living with Fiona. Especially if he pulled his Mr. Flirty act on her and started hitting on her. The two of them had to _live_ together now, which meant they were going to share a living room, and a kitchen, and a bathroom, and, oh God, what if Drew saw Fiona walking around in that little silk bathrobe she liked?

"Miss Moreno, care to tell us what you're thinking about that's so much more interesting than the topic at hand?" her teacher called out, and Imogen squeaked, blushing.

"No, sir," she stammered out, sliding down in her seat a bit and very deliberately ignoring Fiona's questioning gaze.

—

After school she pretty much invited herself to Fiona's loft, ignoring her girlfriend's inquiries about whether or not she had to get home to walk Volta like she normally did, or how that project for her World History class was coming along. "Fiona," she said, exasperated, "are you trying to keep me from coming over?"

Fiona's eyes went wide and she shook her head. "Of course not! I would never do that. I was just worried. It's not very often that you, you know, just sort of demand to come over like this." Imogen shrugged her shoulders, tugging Fiona along by the hand when her apartment building came into view.

"Just wanted to see you today, is all," she said absentmindedly, not missing the quizzical look Fiona gave her before she gave up and just chalked Imogen's behavior up to her girlfriend being her usual strange self.

When they reached the loft and entered, Imogen made a face at the fact that there were already some clothes strewn about the living room, and some soda cans left on the coffee table. The TV was on, although no one was home, and Fiona rolled her eyes. "I'm going to kill that little bastard," she vowed, dropping her purse on the kitchen island.

Imogen eyed the mess, picking up a pair of Drew's boxers with her thumb and forefinger and holding it as far away from her as possible. "Um, Fi? Why are these just sitting on your couch?" Fiona stared at them and then shook her head, covering her eyes.

"I don't know, but just throw them over there or something! I don't want to _see _them!"

It took the girls a few minutes to clean up the little mess that Drew had left before leaving for his shift at the mall, but then they settled right into their comfortable routine that occupied them after school. Fiona put in a video while Imogen popped some popcorn in the kitchen. By the time she got back into the living room, Fiona was already sitting on the couch with the remote in one hand, and Imogen put the bowl down on the table and snuggled right up next to her girlfriend. Fiona pressed play and they watched idly for a few minutes, Imogen's head on Fiona's shoulder and her hand on Fiona's stomach.

Half an hour into _The Proposal_, Imogen's hand carefully slipped under Fiona's top, and the older girl turned her attention from Ryan Reynolds to her, an eyebrow raised. "How long until Drew gets back?" Imogen asked, smirking.

"Long enough," Fiona answered, leaning down to kiss Imogen. She reacted by grabbing hold of Fiona's shirt and pulling her girlfriend down on top of her, loving the way that she straddled her. It hadn't taken long for the two of them to figure out what were each other's major turn-ons, and they definitely exploited them even if they weren't quite ready to go all the way yet.

Imogen tangled her hand in Fiona's curly hair, distantly thanking her girlfriend for going back to her natural hairstyle in the back of her mind, and letting out a small, barely constrained moan when Fiona's lips traveled the length of her jaw and down her neck. She pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses against the column of her throat and began to suck on her pulse-point, nipping with her teeth and then soothing the sting a second later with her tongue. Imogen's hands had been settled on her waist, but after a second of fumbling, she found herself working on Fiona's bra clasp. She had just gotten it open when there was the sound of a throat clearing and Fiona sprang away from her, holding her bra to her chest.

Drew was standing in front of them, mouth open, and looking as turned on as any guy could have been in a situation like this. He kept standing there for a long moment, until finally Fiona grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, nailing him right in the face. "Go away, you pig!" He scurried into his room, although there was no missing the shit-eating grin on his face.

Imogen sat up, absolutely livid, and watched Fiona try to fix her bra. Yeah, this Drew living here thing was not going to work out for her.

—

"I don't like you living with Drew," she announced the next day, after Fiona opened the door to her loft. She then breezed by and dumped her bag on the couch right by Drew - well, she hadn't expected him to be there - and then turned on her heel, hands on her hips. Fiona closed the door before looking at Imogen, confused.

"Drew, maybe you should go in your room," she told him, and he started to protest, but one glare from Fiona sent him running. "Im, what are you talking about?"

Imogen began to pace, twisting her fingers together. "I don't like Drew, okay? Something about him rubs me the wrong way and I don't like the idea of you two living together. I mean, what if he starts hitting on you? I know you can handle yourself and I know you love me but I don't like the idea, okay?"

There was a long pause from Fiona. "Did you just say I loved you?"

That was not how this conversation was supposed to go. "You know what I mean. In a friendly way, but now we're dating, so you don't want to hurt me. Anyhow. I just don't like it because, I don't know, you guys are going to spending all this time together and - "

Fiona held her hand up. "Whoa! Okay, first of all, I will not be voluntarily spending a lot of time with him. If there's anyone I want to voluntarily be spending a lot of time with, it's you. Second of all, yes, I do love you, and no, that's not the only reason I won't be doing anything with Drew. Other reasons include, but are not limited to: Drew is a boy. Drew is gross. Drew is dating Bianca."

Imogen still didn't look convinced. "I just sort of wished you had, I don't know, run it by me. I mean, I know I don't get any say in it, but - never mind, that was dumb. Sorry." She was just digging herself into a deep hole now, and with her luck, it was going turn into a full-fledged fight. She cast her eyes downward, playing with the tulle on her skirt.

There was a series of small clunks as Fiona's heels hit the hardwood floor, and then soft hands were cupping her face and forcing her gaze upward. "Immy, look at me." Their eyes met, and Imogen, as always, was struck by how blue they were. It didn't matter how many times it happened; she would never get tired of Fiona Coyne's eyes. "I didn't think it would bother you that much. Seriously, he's just a roommate. He's not even that. He's just a check to pay the rent, I swear."

As much as she loved hearing the words, she had to roll her eyes. "Don't be that mean, Fions. You guys could maybe be friends someday. Just don't let me catch him flirting with you or I'll have to kick butt." That got a laugh out of Fiona, and she kissed Imogen's forehead.

"You? Kick butt? I'll pay to see the day, Imogen Moreno. You're as intimidating as shoppers at a Walmart sale," she snorted. Imogen pretended to look offended - or maybe she was?

"Shut up, Fiona," she whined, knocking her girlfriend's hands away from her face. "But seriously, though, let's talk about the whole you loving me thing."

That shut Fiona right up.


End file.
